Honoring Your Vision

Hi readers! I hope you enjoy this repost of an article from 2011.

“The key to warriorship is not being afraid of who you are,” wrote Chogyam Trungpa in Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior. “Ultimately, that is the definition of bravery.”

For writers, Trungpa’s words have special significance. Not being afraid of who you are as a writer means developing an inner strength that goes beyond mere confidence. I think of it as “honoring your vision”–acknowledging your own unique talents and valuing the story only you can tell.

As Trungpa points out, this kind of open regard for yourself (and, I would add, your writing) takes courage, hard work, and a good deal of self-awareness. I can’t claim to be fully there yet, but I’ve come a long way in learning to honor my vision. Here are some of the steps I’ve taken along the way.

1. Learning to look at my work critically. I know writers who pile up stacks of unsubmitted manuscripts because they can’t imagine anyone wanting to read their work. I also know a few who are so convinced of their own brilliance that they send off everything that comes out of their pens with little revision. Both extremes are deadly to a writing career. And even if they seem like polar opposites, they have the same source: fear.

When you’re not afraid of who you are, you’re open to both the genius of your work, and its failings. You feel no shame when you see the weaknesses and flaws in your writing. Conversely, you don’t become arrogant when you become aware of its strengths. Instead, you’re able to honestly evaluate your work. You feel true pride in your accomplishments, even as you acknowledge and correct problems.

2. Learning to respond maturely to criticism. Let’s face it: Even respectful criticism does not give us the toasty feeling we get from praise. But when you are unafraid of yourself, the sting of criticism is softened. Writers who have a deep trust in their own abilities do not get hurt, angry, or defensive when others comment negatively on their work. They ask themselves frankly if the criticism is accurate and valuable. If it is, they listen to it, grow from it, and appreciate it. If it isn’t, they shrug it off.

3. Moving forward in the face of rejection. Even a strong dose of self-confidence won’t always stave off an initial feeling of disappointment or frustration when you receive yet another “no thanks.” But when you are unafraid of yourself as a writer, you see rejection for what it is: Not a judgment about you, but a necessary part of the writing life. When you honor your vision, it becomes easy to dispose of the pain andmkeep going. The more you honor your vision, the more you realize you’re not writing for acceptance, anyway: You’re writing for writing.

4. Staving off jealousy and comparison. Early in my writing career, I realized that there are always going to be people doing better than me. And I knew that if I compared myself to other writers, I’d never have a moment’s peace. If you’ve ever felt a twinge of resentment over the fact that you’ll never have Toni Morrison’s awards, Stephen King’s numerous publications, or J. K. Rowling’s money–and be honest, you have–then you know what I’m talking about.

For the writer who honors her or his own vision, these comparisons don’t mean a lot. She realizes that her place in the Universe is unique, that none of us are here to be someone else. When I was first starting out, I had a phrase I repeated to myself that put this all in perspective. “No, you don’t have the talent of Emily Bronte,” I’d say to myself. “You have the talent of you.”